


Spur of the Cliché Moment

by inkblott



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Cuties, F/F, First Kiss, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Nerd Lydia, POV Lydia, Pining, Popular Allison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1352488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkblott/pseuds/inkblott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison Argent.</p>
<p>Captain of the lacrosse team, soon to be Homecoming Queen, and the object of Lydia’s affections for the past, oh, say, 4 years. Allison had briefly dated Scott McCall, co-captain of the lacrosse team, before they had parted on mutual terms. Then, she’d gone on to shock the school by entering a relationship with Erica Reyes, a pretty blonde with epilepsy. They’d lasted for seven months before they broken up. </p>
<p>Not that Lydia was counting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spur of the Cliché Moment

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Derek looks more like adult Derek, not teenager Derek. So like, a slightly younger Tyler Hoechlin.

“She’s not looking, is she? _Please_ tell me she’s not looking.”

Stiles’ eyes darted to something – some _one_ , an annoying voice in her head chimed – behind her, and Lydia pretended not to notice his eyes widen a little.

“Uh. N-no.”

Lydia wasn’t stupid. She had the report cards to prove it. She knew when her best friend was lying to her.

“Stiles.”

He fixed her with an unimpressed stare, keeping eye contact as he snatched a French fry with his long fingers. He pointed it accusingly at her, and she resisted the urge to flinch. She would not bow down to the Man. Or in this case, the Potato.

“Hey, you _said_ to tell you that she’s not looking. I was just being a good friend.” He dunked the fry in his ketchup and shoved it in his mouth, somehow chewing in an accusatory manner.

“Stiiiles,” Lydia whined. She normally didn’t whine, a fact that she was quite proud of, considering the rich bitches that “ruled the school” and complained about the most trivial things, but this was Allison they were talking about. Creeping about. Whatever.

Allison Argent.

Captain of the lacrosse team, soon to be Homecoming Queen, and the object of Lydia’s affections for the past, oh, say, 4 years. Allison had moved into town, the only newcomer for a decade, and Lydia had fallen practically the first time she saw her. Literally. She’d gotten one glimpse of chestnut curls and had practically fallen onto her face. She would have too, if it weren’t for Stiles catching her at the last second. Unfortunately, no opportunities arose for the redhead to interact with Allison. She had never gotten the balls to even _talk_ to the girl, so a relationship of any sort was totally out of the question.

Allison had briefly dated Scott McCall, co-captain of the lacrosse team, before they had parted on mutual terms. Then, she’d gone on to shock the school by entering a relationship with Erica Reyes, a pretty blonde with epilepsy. They’d lasted for seven months before they broke up but again, it was on mutual terms.

Not that Lydia was counting.

To say that Lydia had it bad was an understatement. She would probably fly to the peak of Mt. Everest on a unicorn while singing the dubstep version of Bohemian Rhapsody if Allison asked her to.

Well, she’d try her damned hardest.

Stiles groaned before saying, “Fine, Lydia. She’s looking.”

Lydia suddenly felt like a spotlight had been thrust upon her, and regretted making Stiles tell her. This kind of stress was _not_ something she needed.

“Dammit, Stiles.” The boy stared at her, looking affronted, still stuffing his face. She felt the anxiety flood out of her as she watched the familiar sight. Stiles was such a pig.

“Stiles, if _I_ ’m disgusted by the way you eat, what do you think _Derek_ will think?”

His head jerked up so fast, mouth partially open with half eaten mush for all to see, that she was surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. She raised an eyebrow as he stuttered.

“D-d-derek, what? Heh, what about Derek, why would I care about hi-“

“Shut up, Stiles. Your crush on him is more obvious than the zit on Vanessa Taylor’s chin.”

They both simultaneously shuddered. That blemish was like a disgusting, pus-filled volcano that was just getting ready to explode. It had been there for about 3 weeks, so everyone was just waiting for it to erupt. They quickly pushed the thought from their minds, because although Lydia was making a very good point, it was too disturbing for them to comprehend.

Stiles opened his mouth a few more times, trying to find an argument to Lydia’s claims, but he wouldn’t because she was right. As usual.

“I- he- what.”

Lydia crossed her arms, and stared at him for a few minutes, before he slumped over, head in arms. She couldn’t help but feel bad for Stiles. He had been crushing on the resident “bad boy slash creeper slash angst ridden lost cause” for almost as long as she’d been gone over Allison.

She rested her head on one hand before reaching over and sifting her fingers through his unruly hair. It was okay if she messed up his hair, because the style was essentially “too lazy after getting out of bed.”

“Welcome to the club, Stilinski.”

He lifted his head up a little, so they could lock eyes before he sighed and turned his face onto his cheek. “We’re hopeless.”

“That we are. But at least we have each other right?”

Stiles grinned before closing his eyes and nodding. Lydia smiled softly at the boy. He was a dork, but he was her dork. He was like her soulmate, but in a friend sort of way.

Her eyes glanced to the clock on the wall, and she yanked her hand out of Stiles’ hair. He yelped in protest and rubbed at his probably stinging scalp. She shot him an apologetic glance as she started shoving her textbooks and notebooks into her bag.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I have to get to Calc.”

A look of understanding passed over his eyes, and he nodded lips quirking. “Oh, _riiight_. You need to get to class early to see a certain someone, don’t you?” Lydia chose to ignore the teasing tone in his voice, resisting the urge to punch him, and opted to send him a glare.

“Oh, well, don’t you have shop next period, with oh, who was it?” Lydia tapped a red painted finger on her chin. The mocking glint in his eyes faded to weariness, and he shrugged.

“Touché.”

She grinned at him, flashing her newly de-brace-ified whites at him.

“Ugh, I’ve really got to get to class. But I’ll talk to you later!” She sprung up from her seat and waved her hand towards him as she began walking away, and Stiles called a “See ya!” at her swiftly retreating back.

Lydia ran through the hallways, hoping to beat the annoying traffic that the lunch bell brought. The sweaty, crowded bodies and the annoying chatter wasn’t something she looked forward to.

She turned the corner, slamming her hand into a locker in the process, and almost tripped. She thrust out her arms quickly, and felt her flats slip slightly. Thankfully, she didn’t fall. But her hand hurt like a motherfucker. She hissed and flapped it about, hopping, trying to get the pain to go away. She continued walking to the door of her math classroom, still flailing about.

Thank God nobody was watching her.

She used her unhurt, writing, she gratefully noticed, hand and opened the door. Mrs. Matthews sat at her desk, typing slowly away at her computer. The aging teacher glanced up and smiled as she saw her favorite student.

“Ms. Martin! Early as usual.”

Lydia smiled before plopping her bag on the desk farthest to the back and right. “You know me, ma’am, early bird catches the worm.”

The teacher laughed before standing up, brushing off her plaid skirt. “That’s what I always say!” She picked up a pile of papers from her desk and looked at Lydia. “Could you be a dear and place one of these worksheets on each desk?”

Lydia nodded, and Mrs. Matthews sighed gratefully. The student walked over and relieved her of the papers. “Face down please.” Lydia nodded.

“I’m sorry to trouble you, I just have to write up some things on the board before the other students start coming in.”

Lydia waved a hand, before jerking it back to prevent the whole stack from falling. She turned her head and smiled at the teacher. “Not a problem, ma’am.”

She quickly placed one sheet on each desk, white side up, saving her own for last. She sat back down at her desk, leaning down to pull a pencil out of her book bag.

“Mrs. Matthews?”

“Hmm?” The teacher looked over her shoulder, chalk poised over the board.

“May I…” She gestured towards the sheet, and Mrs. Matthews smiled.

“Go ahead, Ms. Martin. You’d finish before anyone else anyway.”

“Thank you ma’am.” She flipped over the sheet, and quickly glanced over its contents. Review from last year: solving polynomials. Easy.

She quickly started working, not noticing the door open, and the students beginning to pour into the class. They groaned as they noticed the papers, and complaining about Lydia, who was already on the second problem. But she didn’t notice. She was in the zone.

This was her zone.

Ten minutes passed by quickly, with Lydia letting out a quiet, “present,” as Mrs. Matthews called roll, but still working steadily. She let the chatter of her distracted peers wash over her, but didn’t let it distract her. She had only seven more chapters left of her book, and wanted to finish it before free period so she could get a new one.

She let out a quiet sigh as she finished the final problem. She took her glasses off, stuck them in her glasses’ case, and scrubbed a hand over her tired eyes. She had stayed up late working on her history paper that was due next week, and was starting to feel the repercussions. She stretched in her seat, feeling her tired joints crack.

Reading time.

She leaned down to grab her book from her bag, and glanced at Allison.

Ah, shit. Lydia had promised herself that she wouldn’t “creeper stare” at her anymore.

Looking away, looking away. Crisis averted.

“Ms. Argent!”

All eyes, including Lydia’s, darted to Allison. Well, if everybody else was doing it, it wouldn’t be too bad, right?

“Yes, Mrs. Matthews?” Her voice was like freaking bells or something. It made Lydia’s stomach flip-flop, but also simultaneously heave with every other word.

“Sorry, dear! I just didn’t call you during roll.”

Allison smiled, and nodded before getting back to work.

Unfortunately for Lydia, while her classmates could look away from Allison, she couldn’t.

Ah, shit.

The right side of Allison’s face was visible to Lydia, with a cascade of brown curls flowing over her left shoulder. Lydia could see her eyes darting and mouth moving, probably murmuring the problems to herself. Lydia could see, judging by where her pencil was scratching away, that Allison was almost to the end of the sheet as well.

_Okay_ , said the annoying voice, _that’s enough staring, you creep._ She quickly turned away from the other girl, forcing down the blush that was rising to her cheeks. If Allison somehow turned to her now, there would be no question of what she was feeling.

Goddamn it, this was so embarrassing.

Her eyes focused on the book that was clutched in her hands, and whoa, her right hand was swelling up. She flexed it slowly, hissing quietly as the stiff muscles contracted. After repeating the motion a few times, it didn’t hurt so much, and she resolved to pick up an ice pack from the nurse on the walk to her next class.

She opened her book and pulled her bookmark out. It was a postcard from Stiles when he went to France over the summer. He’d taken an all around Europe trip with his France, and she had about seventeen more cards at home, with thirty or so letters, which sat in a box underneath her bed. She grinned at the loopy scrawl of Stiles’ handwriting before setting it down and beginning to read.

She vaguely registered the quiet click of a pencil being set down, but was already being drawn into the story of a princess fighting to save her prince. She didn’t notice a pair of chocolate brown eyes darting to her before snapping away. She didn’t take into account a blush that painted pale cheeks, before brown hair created a curtain between them, shielding any eyes from seeing.

Lydia definitely didn’t see any of that.

* * *

 

Before she knew it, forty five minutes of class were up, and the students were eagerly packing up their bags and rushing out of class. A lot of them had free period now, so Lydia could understand their excitement.

She carefully placed her bookmark, making sure the word “beaucoop” was marking where she’d stopped reading. She stretched her arms above her head before standing up and hooking the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

Time for AP Chem.

Lydia already knew that today would be a busywork day, and that she’d have trouble staying awake. Great.

She slowly left her classroom, calling a tired goodbye to Mrs. Matthews, before turning and walking down the hallway, beginning the journey to the other side of the school. Why did the labs have to be so damn far away from there?

Pounding footsteps followed her, and she ignored them, thinking it was someone chasing after somebody. She moved to the side, trying to stay out of their way, but turned in surprise when she heard them slow as they neared.

It was Allison.

Lydia’s eyes widened, and her hands tightened around her book bag’s strap. Fuck, what had she done now? Her eyes darted around, trying to figure out why Allison would want to talk to her. Did she accidentally trip her as she was leaving? Oh god, how embarrassing would that be. Shit, what if she had something stuck to her pants and Allison was coming to tell her? What if it was toilet paper?!

Her mind went into overdrive as Allison stopped in front of her, not even out of breath. An insignificant part of her mind seethed with jealousy – running wasn’t a strong point for Lydia – but the more important parts, like the ones for breathing and facial expressions, were spazzing the fuck out.

Oh god.

“Hey.” Dammit, even her voice was beautiful.

Truthfully speaking, Lydia knew that Allison’s voice was beautiful, from hearing it in the hallways sometimes, but having it directed to _her_ directly was a little mind blowing.

Meaning she was having trouble controlling her reactions.

“H-hi.” She winced as her voice stuttered, but couldn’t break eye contact.

Those damn effing perfect eyes. Sparkly brown. It was like they were looking into Lydia’s soul, unraveling all of her deep dark secrets.

“I just, uh, wanted to ask you something.” Allison trailed off, looking down from Lydia’s eyes to stare at her shuffling feet. _Shuffling feet meant nervousness_. Lydia knew this. She’d done it plenty of times while in awkward situations.

But in this _particular_ awkward situation, she wasn’t the one that was nervous. Allison was.

But that would also mean that Lydia was making Allison nervous.

Lydia’s brain attempted to parse the thought, but it was so crazy, so far-fetched that it didn’t register for a few moments. How could Lydia, a ditzy nerdy loser, make Allison, beautiful and essentially perfect, nervous in any way?

Lydia was dragged out of her thoughts by those brown eyes staring expectantly at her.

“Oh, sorry, I sorta–” She wiggled her fingers next to her head, and Allison smiled softly, shaking her head.

“It’s alright. I was just wondering, do you think you could maybe. Um. Tutor me!” Lydia’s eyes widened. Tutor? As in, have close relations for lengthy periods of time? _Alone_? “In math.” Okay, wait. “I don’t know if you realized, but we’re, er, in the same class. Mrs. Matthews, you know. I’m not doing so well, and you’re the smartest kid in class, so I was kinda hoping that. You’d help. Me. Help me with math!”

Although the mini-speech that the other girl had stuttered out was undeniably adorable, something wasn’t sitting right with Lydia. Math tutoring? If Lydia was correct, which she usually was, Allison was almost as good at math as she was.

Why would she need a math tutor?

“But um. This might sound a little creepy, and I swear it’s not, I didn’t do this intentionally, but it was just something that happened as time. Went. On.” Allison’s raised eyebrow stopped her mid-rant. “Right. You finish your worksheets almost as quickly as I do. Without a calculator. So, it’s a little weird, I guess? Like, why would you need a tutor?”

Allison’s other eyebrow raised to meet the other one, and her mouth formed a cute o. _Goddammit_ , yelled the rational part of Lydia’s brain, _you’re being so dumb. Stop thinking of everything she does as_ cute _or_ perfect _, it’s stupid_.  Whatever, brain, focus on the task at hand. Allison Argent. More specifically, Allison Argent blushing.

Blushing Allison Argent. No matter how Lydia phrased it, it just seemed. Unfathomable.

Why would Allison Argent be blushing because of her? This day was just full of questions that she couldn’t answer.

“Allison Argent, are you blushing?” Internally, Lydia was freaking out. Did she just ask that? Did those words come out of her mouth? Externally, a teasing lilt touched her lips. Thank God. She could still retain a semblance of cool around Allison.

“We-well, I just sorta. Wanted to, uh.” Again with the shuffling.

“To…” Lydia ducked her head, forcing Allison to make eye contact. She didn’t know where all of this daringness came from, but it was pretty useful, if she was being honest. She felt better than she had in a while.

 “To talk to you!” Lydia jerked back at Allison’s exclamation, and the other girl’s eyes softened in apology. “I’ve kinda wanted to talk to you for ages, so I thought maybe if you tutored me, we’d have time to actually talk and stuff.”

“But you’re already so good at math?”

“Well, I didn’t think you noticed.” More shuffling. She wouldn’t be surprised if Allison’s shoes got scuffed. “I didn’t think you noticed _me_ , if I’m being completely honest.”

Not notice Allison? That would have never even crossed her mind. Allison was basically the most popular girl in school. Posters of her, glittered and laminated, with blown up photos – not a blemish in sight too, sighed the fangirl in Lydia – and bold letters: “VOTE ALLISON FOR HC QUEEN”, and things of the like.

“It’s kinda hard not to notice you when your face is staring at me everywhere I go.” She pointedly glanced at one of the posters, and Allison blushed even darker.

“O-oh, that was Erica’s idea, not mine.” She laughed, still nervously, but a little more comfortable with the confident persona Lydia had adopted. The redhead could only hope that Allison would still be this way around her when she realized what a loser she was. “I’m starting to think that she’s more excited about this than I am.”

Lydia nodded understandingly. Well, she hoped it was, because she really didn’t understand. By the way that Allison was grinning at her from under her lashes and tucking a chestnut curl behind her ear, Lydia had succeeded.

_SCORE!!!_ cried the voice in Lydia’s mind. She resolved to find out whose voice it was, because something that annoying certainly couldn’t be hers, and get rid of it ASAP.

After a few moments of awkward – but not _too_ awkward – eye contact, Allison stiffened up, and Lydia started panicking. Oh shit, what did she do now? Was there someone behind her? Did she accidentally make a scary face while she was thinking? She’d have to explain that that was just her thinking face, nothing more. Gosh, how awkward would that be: _sorry Allison, that face that’s creeping you the fuck out, that’s actually my face, so you might want to escape now, while you still can_.

“Right! So, obviously, I don’t really need your, uh, help. And, I’m just gonna go, because I’m probably just making a fool of myself or something.” She glanced at something behind Lydia, and winced. “And made you late for class.”

The redhead groaned internally, because, dammit, AP Chem was a sorta difficult class. But she quickly realized that this was more important than the stupid busy work she’d be doing in class. If she wasn’t going to be learning anything, why _not_ do something that could potentially change her life for the better?

Allison ignored Lydia’s internal conflict-resolution, and continued. “Sorry for bothering and I’m just gonna–” She turned on her heel and began walking quickly away.

Shit. Hell no, Lydia wasn’t going to let this get away from her.

Lydia was a people person, even though people didn’t really give her the chance to prove it. She always tried to do what would make other people happy, and in exchange, gave up things that made _her_ happy.

But she was done with that, even if it was just for now. She really fucking wanted to be happy, and Allison would make her happy.

She started after the brunette, who was halfway down the hallway already. Her mouth started to form the name “Allison”, but just her fucking luck, she tripped.

On a motherfucking textbook.

If she ever found the doucebag that left it there, they’d be going to Hell sooner rather than later.

She watched, slo-mo movie style, as the floor got closer and closer. Realizing that she didn’t want to break her nose, she turned in midair, somehow pushing her bag under her. She landed sort of on her bag, and the wind was knocked out of her. She was glad for the sweatshirt she’d shoved into her bag, because it’d made the fall a little less painful, but it still hurt like a bitch.

She attempted to move, but shit, her ribs hurt. Laying on the ground seemed nicer with every passing, stinging second. Who cares about dirty? It was better that physical movement.

She vaguely noticed a pair of hurried footsteps, but man, taking a nap sounded like a dream. Her eyes closed, and felt herself drifting away.

But nope. Some asshole had to come and shake her. Dammit, didn’t they realize that she just wanted to sleep?

A hazy voice floated to her ears. “-ia. Lydia!”

“Wha–”

“Come on, love, stand up. Are you okay, holy shit.”

“Ugh.”

A hand pulled at hers, attempting to tug her up and off the ground. She tried to resist, forcing her body to weigh 100 more pounds than it was, but this person was unrelenting in their efforts. Dammit.

“But I don’t want to!”

“I know, love, I know, but the floor is disgusting. I’m pretty sure Bobby Carson and Rachel McAddison has sex right here.”

And with that, Lydia was on her feet. “Oh my god, that’s so nasty! Why would people have sex on the floor? On this floor?! Do people not have the decency to keep their private lives out of public areas? I mean, the word _private_ is a keyword. Ugh, is this high school even real, I mean, does this shit actually happen. I thought that was just movies, goddammit.”

Allison’s laughter cut her rant short.

Oh, crap. It was Allison. She was the one that lifted her off the ground. Dammit, Allison had seen her fall down. Now her clumsiness was out in the open, and Allison would be getting the hell out of Dodge as soon as possible.

Lydia braced herself.

Continued bracing.

All she got was more laughter.

She turned to the brunette, who was bent over her knee and clutching her stomach. “I’m not that funny, am I? I mean, maybe funny looking but. Heh. I’m going to shut up now.”

Allison straightened up, gasping and attempting to keep her giggles under control. _Dang it, she was pretty when she laughed. Holy shit, I’m the one that made her laugh. Fuck, fuck._ Lydia mentally smacked herself. She needed to get her crap together. Maybe she should just never speak. Ever again. Permanently glue her lips together. That would prevent any embarrassing slip-ups, wouldn’t it?

“You’re no- ha, not funny looking, I swuh-swear.”

Lydia held up a hand. “I’m just gonna stop you there, because the fact that you’re laughing isn’t really helping.”

Allison made the motion to start protesting, but obviously thought better of it and held up a finger, letting out peals of laughter. Lydia couldn’t help a small smile that flitted across her lips, and watched as Allison laughed herself out of breath. The brunette stood up after a few moments, inhaling and exhaling heavily.

Lydia was a little but starstruck by the sparkling white teeth, bouncing brown curls, full red lips and chocolate eyes.

A few moments passed before Allison was calm enough to form full sentences.

“You’re not funny looking. It’s just, hah, you’re reaction to the public indecency was just,” Allison snickered. “It was cute.”

Lydia wasn’t blushing. She so wasn’t blushing. The lights were just burning really bright and making her cheeks heat up. Obviously.

“Cute? Really?” Lydia glanced down at the bows on her flats, and shuffled her feet. Dammit, that was probably some sort of disease. Shuffle Your Feet When Your Nervous-itis.

“Yeah, you’re very, uh. Cute.” Allison sounded nervous, and adorable, and sigh. Dang it, Lydia didn’t wake up this morning expecting this shit. Was there some sort of class she could take so that she wouldn’t have to deal with these situations?

“If. If it’s okay, I have a question to ask you. I mean, you don’t have to answer it! Obviously, First Amendment, Freedom of Speech, and whatnot, but you can if you want, I don’t really–”

“Lydia.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your question?”

“Um. Right! So, can you. You remember, when I fell, all spectacular movie like?”

Allison shrugged. “Yeah. I mean it happened about five or six minutes ago, so.”

“Well, you said. You, uh. You called me, love?”

Allison’s face reddened for the third or fourth time. “Ye-yeah. It’s a habit, one of my favorite uncles has a British accent, and he says it a lot, so now subsequently, I say it a lot and Iortmaybikeyoulotsoreflex, so yeah, that’s essentially. All.” She was rubbing her arm nervously by the end, refusing to meet Lydia’s eyes.

Lydia blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I sorta. No. I know I like you a lot. So it was a reflex.”

Mind. Blank. What. Huh.

“Y-you. Like me? Lydia Martin, me? You aren’t confusing me with someone else? Like another redhead at our school, like Amy Lee maybe?”

Allison laughed. “I’m pretty sure. I definitely like _you_.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“So, I’m going to process this, and I can’t miss next period, US History, you know how ass that class is. Ha, ass class, okay. Sorry. But I’ll. See you. Later! For sure.”

Allison nodded, but she couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes. Lydia needed that to be gone. ASAP.

“NO. No, don’t do that, don’t be sad. Don’t look sad. I’m not saying no, I actually. I like you. Too. A lot. For a long time actually,” she said as she scratched the back of her neck, feeling more and more awkward as the seconds ticked by. But she wasn’t going to keep this inside her anymore. She needed to get it all out.  

“But I need to think. I can’t. I have to process everything, or I’m going to do something so stupid, and it’s just not going to be good. But don’t. It’s not a no. I promise!”

She started to walk away, but she quickly ran back to stand right in front of Allison. She stared into those chocolate eyes, her own darting quickly between the brunette’s. Lydia couldn’t believe she was going to do this, but it was a day of firsts. She might as well check one more off her list.

Spontaneous cheek kissing.

The redhead stood on her tiptoes – Allison was almost a head taller than she was – and pressed her lips against Allison’s cheek. She quickly leaned back, and smiled as she took in Allison’s astonished face.

“I’ll see you later.”

She stood in front of the brunette for a few more seconds, before skipping backwards, not tripping thankfully, and waving goodbye. She turned on her heel and ran away, before she lost all of the adrenaline she could feel pumping in her veins. Thank God for the adrenal medulla. Fight-or-flight was something that saved her ass more times than she wanted to count. 

She glanced backwards, taking a chance, and saw Allison standing there, a goofy, stupid grin painted onto her lips.

Well, Lydia’s smile was probably just as goofy and stupid. Who gave a shit? She was too happy to care.

Ugh, time for History.

She doubted she would be able to focus.

Her thoughts would be concentrated on brown curls and red lips.

Damn.

* * *

 

As Lydia walked, actually, sprinted away, she happened to glance at one of the clocks that hung on the wall, and oh. She still had thirty minutes left of Chem.

She should probably go to class.

Even though she knew that class was important, and she needed to keep her grades up, missing a little bit more of class couldn’t hurt. She needed to calm herself down before she went, or else she wouldn’t be able to focus anyway.

Lydia quickly veered into one of the bathrooms, glancing at the open stall doors. Empty.

She walked over to one of the sinks, which was surprisingly clean, so maybe Janet came in and cleaned it earlier. Janet was one of the many janitors at this school, but she usually hung around there. That’s how Lydia met her, actually. She had come in while Janet was cleaning up, and somehow they started a conversation. Lydia couldn’t even remember what they talked about, but Janet was sweet.

Lydia placed both hands on either side of the sink, and slouched, putting all her weight onto her hands, making her knuckles flare white. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

Her cheeks were faintly tinted pink, and her hazel eyes were sparkly, which was something she’d never really seen before. Her lips were slightly open, and she watched as her tongue darted out to wet them.

If she was being honest with herself, she looked like a different person. She looked like herself, but there was a weird aura like thing that made her skin, her _entire person_ , seem like it was glowing.

One encounter with Allison turned her into _this_.

She was absolutely fucking hopeless.

She groaned before realizing that she was wasting time doing this. She needed to get to class. Oh, god, what if there was a pop quiz or something, and she missed it? A zero would bring her grade down. Or what if the teacher noticed she was missing and called the office and then they found out she ditched?!

She stopped herself before she gave herself a heart attack. It wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Lydia pushed herself off, and hissed quietly as her hand began to sting. Dammit, she hadn’t gotten that ice pack. She paused, staring at her hand, before grinning.

There was her excuse.

She clutched at the strap of her bag, and walked towards the nurse’s office. Miraculously, she managed to keep her mind perfectly blank as she walked there.

She pushed open the door when she arrived. The nurse was talking on the phone – definitely not a work related call, as the words “GIRL” and “dump him” flitted to Lydia’s ears – so she just gestured to her slightly swollen hand. The distracted woman waved her towards the fridge, and Lydia nodded, walking over and tugging the door open. She grabbed a Ziploc full of ice, closed the fridge, and ripped a few paper towels off the roll to wrap around her “ice pack”. She held it in her right hand, and used her left to sign herself in and out on the student sheet. Huh, only 4 people had come in today.

Lydia ripped a Post-It note of the pack and scribbled a hasty “Please excuse Lydia Martin from the first 25 minutes of class, she was in the nurse’s office to lie down and acquire an ice pack.” She stuck it in front of the nurse, who signed it distractedly, waving her off the minute her pen lifted off the paper.

She quickly pushed open the door to leave, about to wave, but then she realized that the nurse probably didn’t give a shit anyway. She shrugged before leaving.

She got back to her classroom with 20 minutes left of class.

She felt herself stiffen as 20 pairs of eyes fixated on her but she walked in quickly, head down and eyes on the ground.  She quickly placed the pass on the teacher’s desk, and watched her professor pick up the pink sheet with dainty fingers, and waited as the clear blue eyes darted quickly across it. Her teacher gave her a curt nod, and Lydia turned on her heel to walk to her seat, which was in the very back and the very right.

She liked sitting in the corners of her classes, okay?

She glanced on the board, seeing the agenda for the day. A simple, “Finish the classwork from last class” was written in her teacher’s loopy script, and she quickly took out her binder, wincing at the loud click of the binder rings snapping open. She ignored the few curious eyes, and slipped the sheet of paper out. She carefully and quietly closed the binder’s rings, not wanting to cause another scene.

She glanced at the worksheet. Most of it was complete. She only had to complete one last problem before she could get back to her book. She only had one chapter left, and couldn’t wait to read the next in the series.

_Allison is conducting an experiment with 0.10 M hydrochloric acid and…_ There goes her thought process.

Lydia groaned quietly.  Screw Chem. She shook her head gently, smiling to herself. She’d never thought she’d use those two words in a sentence. Even though it _was_ a two-word sentence.

Allison was messing her up. She wasn’t quite sure if it was for good or bad, but she knew that she was willing to find out.

She rested her face in her hands, and sighed, closing her eyes. Slowly, thoughts of molar masses, acids, and bases were replaced with swirling images of espresso curls and ruby red lips. She grinned at her thoughts and the events that had just occurred, and allowed herself to doze off into her Allison induced haze. She had to admit, it was a lot more relaxing then she thought it would be. 

But then again, this was Allison, she was talking – thinking? – about.

* * *

 

Lydia quickly jogged to the library, hoping to get there before the flood of students that were last-minute cramming for tests arrived. Her bag dangled by her side, smacking into her hip as she went. It started to sting after a few well-aimed thwacks, but she pushed that from her mind. All in the name of reading for pleasure.

She’d woken up from her mini Chem nap with the bell, and she slowly trudged her way to History, which flew by. Lydia had already self-taught herself most of the material. She held her book open under the desk, and quickly finished it off, finding herself unsatisfied with the cliffhanger that ended it.

Thank God there was a sequel, and thank God she’d be able to get it quickly.

It wasn’t her fault that Mr. Yu was so boring. His monotonous voice, piercing black eyes, and slicked-over hair simultaneously gave her the heebie-jeebies and made her want to rip her hair out.

Before she knew it, the bell was ringing, and she was out the door before he could tell them what the homework was. She’d just get it from her classmate later.

It was finally free period, and she could go to the library and get her damn book. And then she’d be going home. Where she could think and process and freak out. Maybe she’d call Stiles and rant to him for a little while. Or a few hours.

Whatever. At that moment, her sole purpose was to retrieve her book before any _more_ surprising events gave her a heart attack or something.

She pushed open the doors to the library, and carefully shut them behind her, trying to be quiet so she wouldn’t disturb the students. She walked up to the front desk, where Ms. Williams gave her a smile and a wave.

“Ms. Lydia,” she whispered, “You’re finished already?” After Lydia nodded bashfully, the librarian chuckled. “You just got it two days ago!”

Lydia shrugged. “What can I say? I really liked it.”

Ms. Williams nodded, smiling, before cocking her head slightly. “So, I’m guessing you’re here for the next book in the series?”

The redhead nodded, and the librarian smiled even wider, before it dimmed and a crease formed between her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, sweets, but I’m a little swamped here.” She jerked her head towards the tall stack of books that sat, waiting to be checked back into the catalog, and Lydia grimaced, That would take a while to finish. “Do you think you could find it yourself?”

Lydia nodded, and Ms. Williams stared gratefully up at her. “Thank you, Lydia.”

“No problem, Ms. Williams.” With a short wave goodbye, she turned on her heel and headed towards the H through K section. The author’s last name was Hunterburg, which wasn’t common, so finding the book quickly wouldn’t be too difficult.

She found the correct shelf, and scanned the titles with her eyes, some of the titles catching her attention for a few seconds, but each time, she ignored it. She was on a mission.

Ah! There it was. She quickly tugged it out from its place, and watched as the tightly packed books quickly filled the space that it had occupied moments before.

They really needed to get some more bookshelves in there.

As she started to read the back of her new book, she heard a few thumps and quiet murmured voices.

The inner horror movie lover in her was screaming at her to NOT GO because good never comes out of situations like this, but the logical part of her was telling her that it was her duty, as an avid book reader and library user, should make sure that everything was alright.

She crept around the corner.

She quickly determined the source of the disturbance, and. Holy crap.

Lydia darted quickly back behind a shelf, eyes wide. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh my gosh.” She stuck her head out, carefully, and took in the sight in front of her.

Stiles and Derek. They were heatedly kissing, with Derek pushing Stiles into a bookshelf, grabbing at the gangly boy’s collar with tight fists. Lydia could see Stiles gripping at the leather on Derek’s hips, knuckles white. Lydia’s eyes trailed over the stubble that was growing on the older boy’s chin, and she winced. She was pretty sure, even though she’d never had the experience, the stubble burn would hurt like a bitch. The skin on Stiles’ neck was slightly red, and she could tell that some neck kissing action had been going on.

Ew.

Don’t get her wrong, she was pretty damn ecstatic about this – Stiles’d been groaning over Derek for _ages_ , and maybe this would make him shut the fuck up – but watching her best friend eat some hot guy’s face wasn’t something she’d like to do again. 

She quietly backed away, grinning to herself. Hah, she’d be making fun of Stiles so hard tomorrow. She’d let him have today so that he could freak out with himself, probably imagining all of the terrible scenarios that could happen. He’d be calling her by the next day anyway.

Wait. She turned to the still heavily making out boys – oh god, were they boyfriend, boyfriend now? Because Lydia knew that she shipped them harder than anyone ever will – and slipped her phone out of her pocket. Making sure it was on silent, she flipped it open ad took a couple pictures.

Evidence. Just in case Derek tried to deny something when she went to have the “you hurt him, I rip off your dick” conversation. 

She quietly slipped away, clutching her book to her chest. Ah, so many good things were happening. Next, she’d win the lottery or something.

She quickly walked to the checkout desk, and Ms. Williams looked up from her work as she got closer. “I trust you found everything okay?”

Lydia nodded.

Ms. Williams grinned, before her eyes gained a conspiratory glint. “Did you happen to see Mr. Stilinski and Mr. Hale?” Lydia hesitated, before timidly nodding. Oh, no. They were going to get busted, and it was going to be _all_ Lydia’s fault, and Stiles was going to hate her, goddammit.

“Yes!” Lydia stared at the librarian, who had a fist thrust in the air and a happy smile painted onto her rose lips. “Thank gosh, they’ve been dodging each other for too long. I was about to shove them into a closet or something if they didn’t get themselves together.” She huffed and shook her head, which caused her grey curls to bounce into face. She tucked a few behind her ear, although a few strays fell right back into her eyes. She huffed before smiling at Lydia . “Alright, dear, let me get that for you.”

Lydia handed the librarian the book, which she quickly checked out using a bar code scanner. She had to repeat the process a few times until the beeping noise rang out from the machine. Ms. Williams placed the book on the desk top, and slid it towards Lydia. The redhead grabbed it.

“Thanks, Ms. Williams! I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Ms. Martin! Have a nice day. And also, keep an eye on your friend.” The librarian winked, and Lydia laughed.

“I’ll be sure to do that. Bye!”

She quickly left the library, giggling – oh god, she was fucking _giggling_ , all hope was lost – over the thought of Stiles and Derek. She’d have to yell at Stiles later, because most people, definitely Stiles, wouldn’t make out with someone like that out of the blue. There was some sort of development in their relationship, and Stiles hadn’t told her.

He was going to die. Lydia had been waiting on that for ages, and Stiles didn’t tell her?! Yeah, he was dead meat.

Oh, well. She’d let him live for another day. He deserved to be happy before his inevitable demise.

But now, she needed to focus. She had too much on her mind, and not enough homework to keep her occupied until she had to go to sleep. Sigh.

 School was almost over, and she was sure that nobody would notice if she left a little early.

She glanced around the empty hallways, before exiting quietly.

She quickly started the trudge home, more hyper than she usually was. She started reciting the alphabet backwards to keep her mind occupied, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she started thinking of… well. You know.

* * *

 

Lunch the next day came quickly. The night before and her pre-lunch classes blurred by, with Lydia passing the time mechanically. She didn’t pay attention to what she was doing, because her mind was like a tornado of thoughts. Should she confront Allison? Should she let Allison come to her? Should she just ignore it altogether?

Life was hard.

She stumbled her way to lunch, slumping at her usual table. She held her head in her hands, waiting for Stiles to show up. Within a few minutes, she heard and felt the thumping of books on the table, but she didn’t look up.

“Ugh, Stiles, thank God. I have so much to tell you about, where have you–”

Okay, that wasn’t Stiles.

She glanced up, and her eyes met piercing hazel ones, and her eyes somehow widened and twitched at the same time.

 It was Derek.

Images of the rather inappropriate kissing scene that she witnessed flashed through her mind, and she couldn’t help the furious blush that rose to her cheeks. Derek raised an eyebrow at her as he slowly sat down, and she felt like he was expecting her to explode. Or implode. Something involving her being blown into little bits, with some massive chuck of something hitting Derek in the face.

What a lovely mental image.

“H-hi! Derek,” Lydia managed to squeak, before wincing and looking down at the table.

“Hey.” Derek’s voice was just as she thought it would be. Deep, sorta growly, and undeniably sexy. But Lydia wasn’t really interested, considering the facts. Allison was probably It for her, at the moment.

“What are you, um, doing here? I mean,  it’s totally okay that you’re here, it’s a free country, but you’ve never actually sat with us before, so it’s a little surprising, especially because you’re, yanno, you, and we’re kinda not like you _at all_ , but that’s fine, be who you want to be, right? Wow, that was strangely Barbie-esque.” She stopped, and took a deep breath, about to dive right back into her rant, but a hand slapping over her mouth prevented her from doing so. She let out a muffled “mrpph” and tilted her head back to see Stiles, upside down, staring down at her. His eyebrows were slightly raised – he could never raise only one, and he always got mad at her for showing off her eyebrow raising skills – and she looked back at Derek. His eyes were wide, and he glanced between Lydia and Stiles , as though he was unsure of what to do.

She let out an indignant shriek, which was more pathetic sounding than she’d like to admit, before smacking at Stiles’ hand. He moved it out of the way, very last second, and she thwacked herself in the face.

Thank Gosh she didn’t have braces anymore, or she might be bleeding. That didn’t stop it from hurting like a little shit though. But that brought up another question. Did little shits even hurt? What if they were delightfully painless?

Lydia pondered quietly before a thunk of books on the table drew her out of her strange thoughts. Stiles had set his things down, to the right of where he pulled his food from her side. He’d probably set it down to free his hands, so he could shut her up. Her mouth began stinging slightly as she thought about it, and she glared. That bitch.

She voiced as much.

“Hey, it’s not my fault! You were chattering on like. Like…”

“Like you?”

“Yeah!” Everyone was silent for a moment, giving Stiles time to think. “Hey, wait a minute.”

“Oh, shush, Stiles. Now. How ‘bout you tell me why our dear friend Derek is sitting with us today?”

A flush spread across Stiles’ neck, probably painting the back of his neck red as well. Lydia held back her giggles, and kept her face composed. She continued staring at him, as his hand came up to nervously rub at his neck. “Stiles, you better tell me soon.”

“Or what?” Stiles lifted his head towards her, making a bitch-face. She knew that she should have made him stop watching Supernatural. He related to Sam too much to be good.

“I’ll tell everyone about the Shelley incident.” The blood drained out of his face, and she could see the little hairs stand up on his arms as goosebumps formed on his skin. She felt her lips minutely quirk for a moment, before she straightened them to straight lines on her emotionless face.

“NO! No, no you won’t.” He glanced towards Lydia’s unwavering face. “Would you?”

She raised an eyebrow, unflinching, and he squirmed in his seat. “Fine, I’ll tell you later.”

Derek grunted and turned to the writhing boy, a question in his eyes. Stiles turned to him, flailing towards Lydia. “I have to! She’s my best friend.” He glanced at her, as though she were about to leap across the table and start clawing at his face. He leaned over towards Derek’s ear, cupping his hand, and blocking whatever he said from Lydia’s exasperated eyes.

“She’ll probably kill me if I don’t, okay, I have no choice.”

Lydia easily heard his slightly muffled whisper, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. Although Derek glanced at her, eyes unconvinced, and she was sure that he knew that she knew what they were talking about. She shrugged a shoulder, and she looked back to Stiles before giving him a curt nod.

She quickly pulled her turkey sandwich – with light mayo and tomatoes, _thank you, Mother_ , she thought – and daintily picked up a triangle half. A thought flashed through her mind, and she suppressed her wicked grin. “By the way, Ms. Williams says that you make a cute couple.” She took a bite out of her sandwich, watching with sick glee as Stiles began to choke, probably on his own spit, stupid boy, and as Derek’s eyes widened.

“What the, what are you ta- talking about, heh, what?”

She quickly swallowed. “Yeah, when I went to thelibrary yesterday, she told me. I wonder why she would have seen you guys? I mean, she never leaves the library!” She paused, eyes rolling up to the ceiling in mock-thought. “Unless, you two went to the library, and she saw you there? But then,” she put curled finger to her chin, “Why would she think you were a couple? Were you doing something, oh, I don’t know, _naughty_?”

Stiles sputtered, trying to explain, and Derek just sat, back rigid, staring at the table top.

“Oh, haha, you see–”

Lydia held up a hand, finally letting loose the laugh that had been pushing at her ribs for the duration of the awkwardness. “Save it, lover boy, I saw you guys Frenchin’ it up in the Science Fiction section.”

Stile groaned and dropped his face into his hands, while Derek stayed frozen, although a blush was creeping its way onto his cheeks. Lydia laughed for a few moments before speaking.

“It’s about damn time. Stiles just would not shut up about you, and I was about to lock you in an empty classroom or something, and so was Ms. Williams, Jesus Christ–” Stiles’ head shot up, and he frantically shook his head at her. She quickly shut up and shoved another bite into her mouth.

Fuck, did she do something wrong?

She watched as Derek’s spine relaxed, and his expression morphed from embarrassed to teasing. He turned to Stiles.

“You talked about me? All the time? Why, Stiles, I’m flattered.” _Derek Hale_ was teasing Stiles. Dark, brooding Derek was making fun of Stiles for preening over him. Lydia could only watch in awe.

“Aw, shaddup, you loser, I only talked about how grouchy you looked all the time. I mean, if anyone could be voted “Most Likely to Have a Stick Stuck Up Their Ass”, it would definitely be you, big boy.”

Lydia quickly interjected. “Don’t even kid yourself, Stiles. All you could talk about were those _beautiful hazel eyes_ and _sexy leather jacket_ and blah-di-blah-di-blah. I felt like I was second-handedly falling in love with the guy just through your rants about him, goddamn!”

Derek stared at Stiles, eyebrow raised and slightly egotistical smile on his lips. “It’s okay, I know I’m amazing.”

“Shut up.”

Derek and Lydia laughed, although hers was a little hesitant. Was she allowed to laugh with Derek Hale? They’d never really interacted before, but if he and Stiles were going to be in a relationship, she’d probably have to spend more time with him than in her wildest dreams.

The older boy leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Stiles’ flushed cheek. “It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“It’s fuckin’ embarrassing, is what it is.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah-huh.”

Derek reached a hand down to bring Stiles’ face level to his. He pressed a quick kiss to the flushed boy’s cupid lips, and smiled. “It’s not.”

A lazy grin spread across Stiles’ lips. “Heh, okay.”

Lydia let them have their moment for a few seconds, before mock-gagging. “If you’re done being disgusting, I want to finish my lunch.”

Stiles stuck his out at her. “By the way, we were in the Fantasy section, not the Science Fiction section. I remember because there was this Red Riding Hood type story digging into my back when Derek pushed me into the shelf so that he could–”

“AND that’s enough for me, no more, please and thank you.”

Stiles laughed before starting on his lunch.

Lydia grinned. Stiles was an awesome best friend.

“But seriously, you guys have needed to get together for who knows how fucking long. Stiles was pining so hard. He was pining _so_ damn hard that he had more pine than flipping pine trees, okay? I had to deal with so much shit, you have no idea.”

“Oh, honey, I know exactly what you mean.”

She turned her head to the side to see Erica Reyes walk up to their table, with Isaac Lahey and Vernon Boyd trailing behind her. Their faces were scrunched up in confusion, but Erica’s was confident, and she stood with her hand on her cocked hip, bloody nails standing out vividly against her white – very, _very_ low cut, holy crap, she had some boobs on her – shirt. Her heels click-clacked against the floor as she walked, or more like stalked in Lydia’s opinion, towards them. The two boys followed closely.

Isaac and Erica sat on either side of her, while Boyd moved to the other side of the table to slip in next to Derek.

Lydia and Stiles connected eyes, eyebrows raised and eyes widened. Well, Lydia’s eyebrow was raised, because, ha, Stiles still couldn’t do it. She smiled before arching her brow even higher, watching as her best friend sneered at her, reaching over to thwack her in the forehead.

“Ah, what the shit, Stiles?!”

“You started it, don’t even with me Lydia Middle-Name-That-You’ve-Forbidden-Me-To-Say-In-Public Martin.”

Lydia sighed before ripping off a huge chunk of her sandwich with her teeth, hoping that if her mouth was full, then _nobody would talk to her._

Erica turned to her, probably hoping to talk or something, but she gestured wildly towards her mouth. Erica pouted, but Lydia couldn’t really concentrate, because she had so much fucking food in her mouth that she could barely chew. She slowly worked her jaw, attempting to pay attention to the conversation Erica had started with the gobsmacked Stiles.

(His shock was understandable. He had the biggest crush on her from the sixth grade to the eight, but she’d never even given him the time of day. They’d never even spoken until that day. Erica and Boyd were a thing even in elementary school. He wouldn’t stop moping about how “she was so perfect and she never noticed him” and “that he was a love failure” or some bullshit like that. But fortunately for Lydia’s bleeding ears, about week into freshman year, he’d seen Derek in his Advanced Algebra class. Essentially, he’d tripped all over himself when he realized that the broody, even-then-stubbly boy-man had been setting next to him that entire time, and he hadn’t had  wet dream about him already. He’d forgotten all about his undying love for the blonde, which Lydia could attest to. He came home that very day, flung himself onto her bed – and her Biology notes, which was a motherfucker to straighten out afterwards – and spent the rest of the day waxing poetry about the beauty of Derek’s eyes and the wonder of his cheekbones and his _muscles_ , and dammit, there was only so much she could take before she completely lost it.

But, backstory aside, the fact that Erica Reyes, badass bitch who was more than a little terrifying, was talking to him like they were childhood friends seemed pretty freaking scary.)

“Honey, don’t even worry about it. Derek over here was whining over you for-fucking-ever.”

Derek growled, actually _growled_ , and narrowed his eyes. “Erica, I will rip out your throat.”

“With your teeth, blah, blah, yeah big boy, I got it. I got it the first three hundred times you said it okay, it’s not threatening anymore. It only draws attention to your cute little bunny teeth.” She reached across the table, and pushed his upper lip, exposing his pointy teeth.

They did look like bunny teeth. They were oddly cute. Stiles seemed to think so too, slumped over the table, and craning his neck so that he could just stare at the grouchy boy’s teeth.  And the grouchy boy’s face, she assumed, as Stiles’ eyes were obviously wandering all over.

But Derek was staring down at Stiles with weird crinkly crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and Lydia was just really fucking happy for them both.

She had finally finished her bite and sucked at her teeth, trying to get the pieces of bread off. There was a little piece in the very back of her mouth, and no matter how much she twisted her tongue, she couldn’t get at it. She was tempted to jam her finger into her mouth and get it out that way, but she was in a public setting, unfortunately. She put her sandwich back in its container before pushing it back into her bag. The excitement of the day was filling her stomach with weird swirly things, and she wasn’t really hungry anymore.

She pulled her water bottle out of her bag, and took a swing, swishing it around in her mouth. She felt the piece of bread shit get dislodged, and almost sighed in relief. It was getting really annoying.

She was just closing her bottle, still with a mouthful of liquid behind her lips, when someone said, “Hey!”

Oh, shit. She knew that voice. Her body immediately jerked forward, trying to make her do a spit-take but she kept her lips pressed tightly together. If she sprayed Derek with water and spittle, Stiles would never forgive her.

She quickly swallowed the water, but started coughing as some went down the wrong pipe.

“Goddamn, Martin, get yourself together.” Erica was patting – or more like slamming her hand into, her back – and Lydia quickly forced herself to stop. Her back couldn’t take anymore.

She turned her head towards the voice, and yep. Allison.

“Oh, hey, Allison! I wonder what you’re doing here? Maybe it’s because of Ly- Ow!”

Lydia snapped her head to Stiles, who was wincing and probably rubbing his leg where she’d kicked him under the table. She minutely shook her head, and Stiles pouted. She rolled her eyes before reaching over and gently flicking his lip.

“Hey, Allison.”s

Surprisingly, it was Derek that had spoken. Allison smiled – _so cute_ , whispered the asshole in Lydia’s head – and waved before shuffling her feet and clutching the strap of her bag with both hands. She looked at the ground, and Lydia was struck with the fact that, damn, Allison _was_ really cute.

Awkward moments passed.

Lydia startled herself into action. “Um, do you want to sit here? With us?”

Allison glanced up towards Lydia, and their eyes locked. She nodded, smiling while biting her lip. Oh god, was she nervous? Lydia didn’t want Allison to be nervous. How was Lydia making Allison nervous? Allison was always the one that made _Lydia_ nervous! Oh gosh.

Erica quickly stood up and moved to sit next to Stiles. She winked at Lydia – oh that shithead – before resuming her conversation with Stiles, who was leaning against Derek. The older boy had an arm curled protectively around Stiles while nodding to something that Isaac had said. Boyd stayed silent, turning his head from Isaac to Derek as the conversation progressed, but periodically glancing at Erica, as though he was making sure she was still there.

Lydia could see this becoming a daily occurrence.

A gentle throat cleared, and Lydia turned back to Allison, who started nervously shuffling again. “May I…?”

“O-oh, yeah, of course!” She gestured a hand towards the empty seat next to her. She half expected Allison to laugh, saying something along the lines of, “ew, why would I want to sit next to a loser like you?”, but was happy when Allison grinned – that dimple, goddamn – and slid into the seat.

Lydia turned away from Allison, eyes glued to the table and hands pressed to the seat. Shit, what did she do now? She didn’t want Allison to feel left out, but at the same time, she didn’t want to start spewing out embarrassing shit that she _knew_ she was going to start spewing if she opened her mouth.

So she settled for continuing to stare at the tabletop, body rigid.

Until a warm presence by her hand made her look towards it, and holy _shit_.

Allison’s hand was pressed right up against hers, and wow, the shade of pink that was painted on her nails was really pretty. Her hand was pretty. Shit, what the hell was going on in her mind? What was Allison doing?

Lydia watched as Allison’s pinky slowly inched its way into the crevice between Lydia’s pinky and ring finger. She glanced at the brunette through the corner of her eye, and quickly jerked her head towards Isaac when she saw that Allison was doing exactly the same to her.

Allison’s hand didn’t stop its little journey until it was completely on top of Lydia’s.

Lydia sucked in her lips. Oh shit, goddamn it, what did the girls in movies do when this happened, crap, she couldn’t remember anything.

She suddenly was hit with a shock of clarity. _Allison wanted to hold her hand._ Wow, how did she manage to not accidentally kill herself on a daily basis?

Lydia looked back towards their hands, and slowly spread her fingers apart to make room for Allison’s. The pink tipped fingers quickly slid between them, making a pattern of red-pink-red-pink. It looked rather nice, if Lydia was being honest.

But Lydia wanted to _really_ hold Allison’s hand..

She slowly turned her hand on its slide, and Allison moved hers so that they were touching, palm to palm, before interlocking their fingers together.

If Lydia vocal cords were working, she’d probably be squealing right about then.

She finally chanced a look towards Allison, who was looking right back at her. They smiled softly at each other before rejoining the conversation their friends had started. Something about the pros and cons of llamas. Lydia swore that all of their friends were wankers, and that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

They interjected now and then, everybody laughing when Allison made a perfectly executed penis joke without breaking her poker face. But they were more focused on the warmth that their joined hands created.

It was a lovely setting, and all that sat at that table wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

* * *

 

By the end of that lunch block, everybody felt sufficiently closer to everyone else, and they knew they’d be sitting next to each other for as long as they could.

But soon enough, it was time for them to separate for their next period. Thankfully, there were only two more before they could go home. Erica, Boyd and Isaac all had History after lunch, so they left with quick waves and quiet goodbyes. Lydia watched as they stumbled away, Isaac’s arm thrown over Erica’s shoulder as she held Boyd’s hand. Her heel kicked up to hit Boyd in the bum, and Lydia could see the boy look down at the blonde, an unamused expression on his face. She leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before turning and doing the same to Isaac.

Lydia could definitely see them becoming her close friends.

“So, me and Derek are gonna go. Ms. Carpenter would throw a hissy fit if we were late to class.” Ms. Carpenter was the strictest English teacher at school, so she shooed them away with a flick of her wrist.

Stiles waved and Derek jerked his head in farewell. She grinned at them both, and they turned to leave. But not before Stiles looked over his shoulder, mouthing “geddum, Lyds” as she grimaced. He waved again, before they left.

And now there were two. Specifically Allison and Lydia. Who were still holding hands as they sat.

“So.”

“So.”

A moment of silence.

“I have to–”

“I should prob–”

They laughed as they started speaking at the same time. Allison made a gesture for Lydia to start talking, and Lydia, although she’d never admit it if you asked her, let out a tiny giggle before continuing.

“I have to get to Bio, because I have Schwartz.”

Allison sucked in air through her teeth, crinkling her eyes in sympathy. “Oh man, I’ve heard bad things about her.”

Lydia nodded. “I’m not sure how many of them are true, but I don’t really want to find out.”

Allison giggled, and they nodded together. Synchronized nodding.

“I gotta go to French, and I’d love to walk you to your class, but French is on the opposite side of the building, which. You probably knew. Heh.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Lydia stood up, Allison sluggishly doing the same. Their joined hands hung between them, and they both stared at them for a moment, before Allison spoke again.

“Hey, can I have your number?”

Lydia’s eyes widened. Nobody had ever asked her for her number before. And Allison was asking her for her number. Whoa.

“Uh, y-yeah.”

Allison fished her phone out from her pocket, and quickly pressed a few buttons before handing it to Lydia. The redhead struggled to put her information into the device single-handedly, but she managed. She handed it back to the brunette, who pressed another button before saying, “say cheese!” Lydia’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, and Allison snapped a photo.

“This will be your new contact photo until I can get a better one. Not that you don’t look smashing in this one, love.” Allison over-exaggeratedly winked, and they both laughed. 

Lydia pulled her phone from her back pocket as it buzzed, and she glanced at the screen.

 

> **hey it’s Allison xx :)**

Lydia smiled, and saved it as a new contact. If she saved it as “Cutie Patootie <3” that was her business. It fell right next to Stiles’ (Cunty Prickface).

She held up her phone, and Allison smiled. Lydia quickly saved it as Allison’s contact photo, and internally sighed. Allison was now forever in her mobile device. The day couldn’t get better.

“Oh shit, sorry love, but I really gotta run!” Allison leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Lydia’s cheek. “I’ll see you later!” She quickly disentangled their hands before turning and running to her next class.

Lydia stood in shock for a few moments before a silly grin pasted itself to her lips.

The day had just gotten better.

She turned and quickly walked to Bio, hoping that she wouldn’t be late.

She found herself not really caring, and resigned herself to blame Allison if her grades started rapidly dropping.

* * *

 

Bio passed quickly, and so did Latin, and it was finally time to go home.

Allison had texted her all throughout class, sending her carefully aimed snapshots of students doing dumb things around her, including a drooling boy with spitwads in his curls, a picture of the French teacher yanking at a wedgie, and one of Allison and Isaac making goofy faces while the brunette held up bunny ears behind the boy’s head. Lydia could see Stiles’ face peeking creepily between them, and she giggled for a whole minute when she first saw it.

She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she saved that one. She was a little ashamed to admit that she promptly made it her phone’s background picture. But only a little.

In exchange, Lydia sent her weird text messages of thoughts that randomly popped into her head. Some of these included: “I wonder what would happen if someone got the stick out of Schwartz’s ass”, “what the fuck is a woodchuck anyway and why are people so curious to know if it chucks wood”, and “is this how you pick up chicks” with an attached photo of Lydia holding up a chicken nugget with a thoughtful expression on her face. When Allison asked about where she’d gotten the chicken nugget, she replied with a series of confusing emoticons. (Her Latin teacher let her eat in class, and she’d stolen it from her friend Megan.)

Thankfully, most of what they’d been doing in class was review, so Lydia didn’t feel too bad about not paying attention.

Allison was a bad influence.

Lydia grinned to herself, before groaning at the thought of the long walk home before her. She hitched her bag over her shoulder, before pushing her way through the throngs of students trying to get to their buses. When she finally made it to the lobby by the main entrance, she sighed in relief. She had felt like she was going to suffocate, goddamn.

She started towards the doors when she thought she heard someone calling her name.

She turned towards the crowd, before seeing Allison, making her careful way through the hordes of people. They were easier on her than they’d been on Lydia, seeing as she was the Queen Bee (suck it, Lorde), but still had a little trouble.

Lydia waiting patiently for Allison to make her way to her, and gave a quick wave when the brunette came to a stop near her.

“What’s up, Allison?”

“Well, I noticed that you walk home, so I was hoping that you wouldn’t be adverse to the idea of me. Um, walking with you?” She stared at her shoes for a moment before looking back up into Lydia’s eyes. “I’m sorry, that sounded really creepy, but it’s mostly from daydreaming out the window! I would just see you walking out there, and it’s kinda cold, so. I dunno, I don’t have to if you don’t want me to, so yeah, I’ll just go, it’s fi–”

“I’d love for you to walk with me.”

Allison stopped mid-rant, and Lydia grinned before holding out a hand. On the inside, she was screaming, because what if Allison didn’t take her hand? Why did she do that? Oh god, she just ruined everything didn’t she, oh shit, shit, shit.

Allison glanced at the outstretched hand, before smiling softly and taking it. Allison’s gloved fingers felt soft against Lydia’s bare ones.

They stood for a moment, not paying attention to the outside world, until someone shouted, “ALLISON AND LYDIA ARE DATING?!”

Lydia looked up in shock. People knew her name?!

Little cheers and encouraging shouts of “get some girls!” and “they’re so cute” and even an “Allydia is canon!!!!” erupted from the crowd. The two girls giggled before waving at the masses, and pushing their way out into the cold March air.

Their joined hands swung between them as they started walking. They made light conversation, joking about little things and laughing. Lydia directed them as needed, and she laughed as Allison swung herself around a pole – not like a stripper, mind you – and sang a song by some obscure artist that the redhead had never heard of. She was still in disbelief that any of this was even _happening_ to her, but decided to enjoy it. It was probably one of the best things to happen to her.

As they continued walking, the warmth of Allison’s hand in hers made her grin, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

When they were about three-quarters of the way to Lydia’s house, she felt herself be pulled back as Allison stopped. She turned, a question in her eyes, but hello, Allison was a lot closer than Lydia had expected.

“So, I want to try something.”

Lydia cocked her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

“Okay, so I know that it’s really soon, but I’ve just wanted to do this for so long, so I’m just gonna–” She cut herself off, and pulled Lydia closer, slipping her hand out of their joined knot and placing it on Lydia’s cheek.

The redhead could only stare, wide-eyed. Was what she thought was gonna happen actually doing to happen?

A chorus of “yep, yes, oh god what do I do, yes” started in her head as Allison’s face got closer to hers, chocolate eyes looking into her green ones, before they fluttered shut of their own accord.

Well, here goes.

Allison’s lips were soft, and Lydia just wanted to lean up into them. The brunette’s hands curled around Lydia’s face, and she reached up, on tiptoes, so she could gently tangle her own in the brown curls. It started slow, but quickly got more heated as their lips moved in sync.

They gently broke apart, and Lydia kept her eyes closed for another few moments, reveling in the feeling of “wow that just happened, that was the best kiss ever, I’m probably going to die now, I’d be happy to die now” but magnified by approximately one billion.

She slowly opened her eyes, and Allison’s chocolate ones filled her gaze. They looked searchingly into her own, darting between them quickly, as though expecting to find regret or disgust in them. Lydia grinned, before slowly bringing her hands down from where they curled around Allison’s hair. Allison smiled softly before she leaned down to press a quick, chaste kiss to Lydia’s lips. She leaned back completely and tangled their fingers together.

“C’mon, love, let’s get you home.”

The redhead laughed, before they started walking again. Lydia stared at their feet, flats and combat boots clunking along, and felt a bubbly feeling rising in her stomach. She smiled gently to herself, before pressing herself into Allison’s side. The brunette grinned down at her, disconnecting their hands to swing her arm over the shorter girl’s shoulder. Allison wriggled her left hand, and Lydia giggled before raising her own to meet it.

They continued down the street, before turning the corner of Lydia’s street.

When they made it to Lydia’s house, her mother quickly ushered them inside for hot chocolate, and a dinner invitation was presented. Allison graciously accepted. They spent the time until then doing homework, giggling at each other over stupid math problems, and exchanging little kisses in between. The meal was full of making fun of Lydia – “we’ve been waiting _so long_ for Lydia to bring someone home, you’re the first person, besides Stiles of course, that we’ve seen from her school!” – and laughter and Lydia was so fucking happy that she felt like she was going to explode.

It had definitely been the perfect day.

 

**_fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it!!


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